


The Mighty Fall

by mrsrumbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, church, homphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsrumbles/pseuds/mrsrumbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christianity was not a choice, Casitel was born with it. His father had made his life clear, and he was to follow it accordingly as he was told.<br/>But all this changes when an occurrence happens that crashes the wall Castiel has been building up. Fears he's been pretending don't exist pile up and present themselves in a thrilling experience that leaves Castiel more confused than ever.<br/>A sin.<br/>A sin who's name was Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Some people think all Christian teenagers are either brain-washed or secret rebels against the system. It was a huge misconception, of course; teenagers were plenty able as much as adults to make their own decisions when it came to religion or their lifestyle. A religious lifestyle keeps people grounded, to remember that life is not meant to be fun, it's meant to be selfless, learn humility; have true values in life. Chasing after Earthly things were pointless and only ended in emptiness. Only true fulfillment could be found in God.

Being the pastor's son made all this very easy. They were the Novaks, father and son, haunted by the background of a unfortunate death of a mother during childbirth, and a rouge daughter who was too focused on her own desires.

Castiel was the last hope, and Zachariah Novak would _not_ let him fail.

As for today, it was Wednesday, that meant Wednesday night prayer service. It was when all the devoted followers of Christ would come to church on a day in the middle of the week to check their servitude and heart, and share with their fellow brethren their concerns and prayer requests. Usually, their concerns were focused on other people, and how the world needed help. Their excuse for this was that their prayer requests needed to be selfless, and Christians had to focus more on helping others than themselves. Castiel begged to differ, but didn't dare say a word against it. That'd be suicide.

The Garrison Baptist Church split into two groups on Wednesday nights, one group with the elderly; the more sophisticated churchgoers. The second group was full of the junior-high, and senior-high school students that had their minor issues to discuss. Castiel often thought he'd rather be in the adult group; he found the youth group very childish.

"I shouldn't have to remind you guys that we have a Midnight Madness Friday," Raphael, the youth group leader spoke, as he wrote 'Midnight Madness' on the white board.

Midnight Madness was just as the name expressed; madness that ran until midnight. Everyone in youth group, which was summed up in about twenty kids, came to it. Each kid, excluding Castiel, would bring one or two friends (often, Gabriel brought _at least_ six), and the entirety of the group would play games and run around the church, and Raphael would often put on music in the main foyer (Christian contemporary, because that's what the kid's would think was 'cool').

Like Castiel mentioned; very childish.

Samuel Winchester was at Youth Group tonight, he himself was a strange character - but that was a judgment, and Castiel shouldn't be judging. That would be sinful.

It was just that the boy never came into church with anyone else, it was usually just him with his colorful bowties and occasional dressy slacks. He had shaggy hair that you could tell from a mile away was never professionally cut - if ever. As far as Castiel knew, he was in seventh grade.

Castiel knew Samuel had a brother. His name was Dean Winchester, and he should've been in several of Castiel's classes at school - but the child never showed up.

Also, as far as Castiel knew, there were no parents to speak of. He'd never seen any adults around Samuel. Dean was still yet to be seen by Castiel's eye.

The Winchesters poked at his curiosity, but it didn't consume him. Whatever mess they had gotten themselves into, was to no concern of Castiel.

At least that's what his father would say.

Everyone called Samuel 'Sam', and one time Gabriel called him 'Sammy', and Samuel had gotten uncomfortable. Castiel wasn't used to nicknames, but since he rarely talked to anyone in youth group besides Raphael, it didn't really matter.

Sam was requesting prayer that his brother would come to the Midnight Madness on Friday. Castiel doubted that would happen; the older sibling obviously had no responsibility or care for his younger brother.

That was an assumption, and Castiel had been taught not to assume, because that was judging character without actually knowing them, and that was gossip within the mind. The rules and regulations were very clear to him.

Andrew Gallagher asked prayer for his test Wednesday, which was a ridiculous prayer request. As if God had any care about some foolish test a high school student had. Didn't these people know what God had to do?

Gabriel asked prayer that all his friends would go to Midnight Madness, for salvation; part of Castiel would want to believe he wanted them to come for that reason, but the real reason was probably that he just didn't want his friends to 'flake out' on him. He'd heard that term sometime in the hallway at school, he couldn't remember who had said it.

It was strange because he went to public high school, while most strictly religious families would prefer to homeschool their students. Especially with Pastor Zach's (another nickname) background for trouble with his family. Sometime school was fun, other times it was... less than that. He figured it wouldn't have been that bad if he'd found some more friends to accompany him. He had one he could name right of the bat - Joanne Harvelle. She was a quick, witty person, who made Castiel smile at least. He didn't laugh often, but smiling was an accomplishment on it's own. She was well-known around school, not exactly 'popular', but people knew who she was, and she was an easy conversationalist. It was all down to pure luck that Castiel had gotten partnered with her in French class in freshman year that their friendship got off on a good note. He was very grateful for Jo's ( _more_ nicknames?) friendship.

Maybe he should invite her to a Midnight Madness.

It may be too... lame... for her.

Wednesday night prayer service ended with Raphael closing in prayer, hitting every useless prayer after another on the board.

Castiel's prayer request was always an 'Unspoken'. Unspokens were prayer requests that you had for God; and God Himself would be the only one who knew that prayer request. No one else would know what that 'Unspoken' was except Castiel and God, and no one was allowed to ask questions. He was grateful for that, because it would be bad if anyone knew.

 

 

o0o

Home life was usually a fine time to relax and work on his studies and devotionals. Devos (for short, also a nickname...) were alone time in the Bible, and the Novaks took their devotionals _very_ seriously. His father usually assigned him to certain passages, including Ecclesiastes, which was a book in the Bible about how life is meaningless without God, and Jonah, about his agreement to do what God had ordered him to do, but with a poor heart, so the rest of his life was miserable because his attitude was in the wrong place.

And every week, one verse in Leviticus.

But he was going to therapy for that, so it would all be better.

Zachariah Novak was a joyful man on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights, but during the week, away from the church's eyes, his sadness and anger that had been pent up over long years of suffrage showed. Pastor Zach often spent nights alone in his study, frantically flipping pages in the Bible, looking for answers - which the Bible usually held. Other nights, he would be in the kitchen, and all Castiel would hear from his room was crashing glass, and groans, and occasional screams.

Luckily, Castiel had never been in the crossfire.

 

 

o0o

The first game at Midnight Madness was usually the famous 'Chair Game'. The game itself was simple; chairs were put in a circle and sticky notes were put underneath each chair. Each sticky note had a number on it. Raphael, who was the ‘referee’ for Midnight Madness, would call out numbers. If the number underneath your chair was called, you had to get up and find another chair. If you couldn’t get to a chair in time, you were put in the middle and had to say your name and name something you liked. And when more numbers were called, the person in the middle could get a chance to get a seat; and the cycle went on.

Everyone had brought a friend or multiple (Gabriel had only brought five this year), which made the whole gymnasium they had in their small church fairly packed. Which was all a bit overwhelming for Castiel.

Not many people ever talked to him, and apparently it wasn't just a public school thing because people in youth group cleared whenever he even started in their direction.

It's all he'd ever known, so he didn't really know what he was missing. Maybe friends would be nice, maybe it was a hassle. He doubted he'd ever know.

6\. That was the number underneath Castiel's specific chair. There were a lot of unrecognizable faces around - more than usual, and he refused to make too much eye contact.  Tessa had a guy with her, and Castiel quickly darted his eyes away from it, even though nothing was even happening.

He turned his head towards Sam Winchester, who had someone next to him, and he'd be _extremely_ surprised if that was his brother. The person wasn't visible from the front, their feet were posed at Sam, talking with him, so only the back of his brown leather jacket was seen.

"8, 2, 12, 7, 10," Raphael called out. Four people jumped out of their folding chairs as the one already in the middle raced to find the nearest one open. Of course, one was left out with no seat. It was like a twisted version of musical chairs.

"Um, I'm Tess," Tessa started, using a nickname, "I like horror films."

She did a impersonation of the Catholic 'Sign of the Cross' in mockery, and that earned a few laughs. Baptists loved to make fun of the Catholics, but they both worshiped the same God, so Castiel didn't quite understand it.

“3, 20, 5, 18, 16.”

The older Winchester - Dean - got up, almost rolling his eyes in doing so, as if this whole game was foolishness. Castiel didn't look too closely at him. He quickly found a seat.

"Hello, I'm Jessica and I love baking."

“21, 25, 8, 1, 4.”

"I'm Balthazar. My parents were obviously smoking something heavy when they picked out the name. I'm a fan of Greek Mythlogy."

"16, 12, 6, 10, 23.”

Castiel jumped and tried for the nearest available chair, but was beat by another.

Dean Winchester gave him a wink while he got comfortable.

And _oh no_ those _eyes_.

His staring caused him to be the last one standing so, flushed and embarrassed, he made his way to the center of the circle.

He said the only thing he knew how to say.

"Hello my name is Castiel Novak. I am the pastor's child."

 

 

o0o

The game continued on fluently, with laughs and accidental tripping over metal chairs. Gabriel's friends - of course - broke one, which Castiel didn't even know was possible. Dean often caught Castiel's eye, and every time Castiel had to fight to look away. It was very simple to get lost in those surreal jade eyes. His whole stature was all too enticing to Castiel. It was dangerous territory, and oh _gosh_ did he know this was not okay on so many levels. But Dean's set jaw, his relaxed posture made his person seem like he would be ready for anything. Just looking at him Castiel could tell he was a daring character, but behind that was a stern expression on his face, that seemed to vanish when he threw a joke or gave out a laugh, but if you paid enough attention, you could see the tension still in there.

This was selfish acting, he was worshiping a body that for starters was a _male_ body. Along with that being wrong in its entirety, this night was not supposed to be about finding someone to drool over, it was about connecting with people and trying to reach through nonbelievers a small image of Christ that a group of teenagers had no hint of.  Castiel was supposed to be talking with people, being _sociable_.

But that never worked with him in the past.

Pizza and snacks came and went. More games followed and passed. Sweaty bodies were everywhere, stomping up stairs, sliding down the railings, climbing over the pews messily. They'd have to clean all this up later.

The next game was called Demons vs. Vampires. It was one of the 'famous' games played at Midnight Madness, funnily enough. Castiel thought it was strange how a church would play games called 'Demons vs. Vampires' when strict churches would never approve. Maybe their church wasn't as strict as Castiel assumed.

Maybe they could have fun in church. He'd need to go to a few more Midnight Madness's to find out if fun was actually _fun_.

It was a fairly simple-minded game. Two demons with green glowsticks around their wrists and necks; went after humans. Two vampires with red glowsticks, and they went after the demons. One angel with blue glowsticks around their wrists and neck saved the humans if they had gotten caught by a demon. It was basically just a complicated version of freeze tag.

Castiel was the angel.

The perks of being an angel was that you didn't have to run whenever you saw a hint of red or green coming around the corner. The downside was hearing " _Angel!_ " being screamed every minute from all different directions in the church. Which meant a _lot_ more running than what Castiel was expecting. No matter how many times they were saved, they always needed one more saving.

Funny metaphor.

Castiel himself was getting _very_ tired,  _very_ quickly. The church was dark now, since it was heading onto about ten p.m. There were little electric candles on the shelves that were scattered through the downstairs, but when you got to the top level of the church it was hard to see two feet in front of you. Once again, Castiel questioned why the youth group, a church organization, would hold such a wild event.

Yells were still being screamed but Castiel couldn't find it within him to care about rushing. He'd done more than enough of his cardio today.

Before he knew what was happening, someone grabbed the blue glowstick around his neck, brushing their fingers more than was strictly necessary, then quickly worked off the wristbands, and ran and hooked them to another kid down the hallway. Castiel gave a puzzled look and tilted his head to the side, even though no one could see his confused expression. Then, another peculiar occurrence happened as a hand grasped his own quickly and dragged him into one of the bigger storage closets. It must be the children's storage where they keep the baby bibles and childish skit materials. A rather bizarre place to take someone into.

At first he thought it was one of Gabriel's friends, who all had a knack of frightening Castiel every available chance. But he was mistkaen.

"Hey angel," Castiel heard a voice say, and whoever it was, they were in close proximity to him. Too close, in fact, to be platonic.

Then, Castiel understands who it is.

"Dean Winchester," Castiel let out in a low voice, not really understanding what else to say.

"Winchester. Dean Winchester." Castiel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the way Dean said it as if he were James Bond.

Castiel didn't know what to do, because whatever was going to happen was not going to be in any way, shape, or form, _pleasing_ to God. Maybe he should get out, that would be the correct thing to do. But some force was holding him back.

"Should I be going-"

"Nah," Dean said flippantly, grabbing a hold of Cas shoulders, smoothing his arms towards the back of his neck, pushing him to the wall.

"Um, I don't necessarily think this is an appropriate setting for..."

Castiel trailed off. The setting was definitely not what the problem was here.

"Tell me... what was your name again?"

"Castiel Novak."

"Alright, tell me... _Cas_ , who stuck the stick up your ass?"

Castiel tilted his head to the side, confused.

"No one has pressured any branch up my..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but it didn't take long for Dean to poke fun.

" _Damn_ , someone shoved it up there real nice haven't they?"

This was awkward and uncomfortable.

Castiel tried to wiggle out of Dean's grip, and succeeded - surprisingly. That was the moment he should've ran out of there, but he was giving into an impulse that was sinful.

Although it was too dark to see, and too loud to hear, Castiel knew that Dean was observing him - somehow. He shifted again and became increasingly aware of the lack of space between them.

And Dean's cologne was making Castiel dizzy.

"Ever kissed someone?" Dean's breath ghosted Castiel's lips, and he inhaled sharply in either shock or anticipation... he begged for the former. This was probably all stupidly cliché, and it was definitely sin. There was no denying that now. His legs felt numb - no, his whole _body_ felt numb. His knees were going weak, and he felt trapped and confused about if he wanted this or not. It was as if he was frozen.

_Sin, sin, sin, sin._

Every thought escaped him as lips pressed onto his.

He should be switching off into panic mode, but there were pliant lips pressed on his, and it was new, and it excited Castiel in a dangerous way. They were moving, sowly, ever so slowly, on Castiel's own, it was almost intoxicating, and _dangerous_...

Then suddenly they were off.

But not far.

"You know, Cas, usually this is supposed to be a two-man effort," Dean's voice was lower than usual, and through all the noise still going around the church, it seemed all muffled compared to what was happening right now. He felt dazed, as if this was an alter world. He'd just shared his first kiss with someone he didn't know, a _boy_ , in a _church_ of all places...

"Are you like, okay?"

Castiel snapped his head up and realization hit him like a dull brick. He suddenly want to crack his skull open on the shelves behind him because why was he so _dumb?_  Here Dean Winchester was, who could've been snogging _anyone_ he wanted tonight, and for all Castiel knew; maybe he already had - was trying to kiss him while he sat idly by probably projecting the completely wrong message.

"I - sorry, just... nervous?" Castiel tried, grinning dumbly even though through the darkness the act would have no hold on Dean. But he almost felt the smile that spread across the slightly taller boy's face. Castiel shouldn't have wanted those lips back on his own, but they were too tempting to resist.

Suddenly hands slid to his waist, and the smaller boy had to suppress a squeak to keep from embarrassing himself further.

"Just relax," Dean whispered into his ear, and no matter how pathetic it sounded; his voice sounded too enticing for his own good. Castiel thought he would melt into the ground right there.

Lips pressed a line from his ear to across the plain of his cheek, finally reaching its destination at Castiel's lips, hesitating slightly, then sensitively pressing their mouths together. This time, Dean waited for him to respond. No way was he letting it slip by this time.

He softly brought a fist up and laid it gently over the top of Dean's chest, it was more comfortable feeling than letting them stand by his side.

They kissed. They kept the pace slow, and Castiel tried not to think that the reason for that was because Dean knew he was inexperienced. It wasn't hard to tell that Sam's brother had some definite talent, and that didn't just happen over night. Dean’s amazing lips were moving with Castiel's clumsy mouth and nothing had ever felt so perfect and daring. His body felt on fire, and he felt above clouds, and this was something he had _never_ had happen before. Everything was always strict; no time for pleasure. But this _sin_ ; this boy he didn't even know was bringing that danger of selfishness in.

And it felt _so_ good.

"Game over!"

Castiel almost crashed his head open on Dean's from surprise. Raphael's voice rung through the halls as lights simultaneously flickered on around the downstairs level of the church. The world slowly came back into view.

If Casitel swore, now would've been the correct time, but Dean took that liberty.

"Shit," Dean sighed and Castiel whipped his hand away from Dean's chest, as if it was hot.

Everything rushed back into play.

He'd just kissed someone.

 _A boy_.

_Sin._

**_Sin._ **

Castiel was a sinner. He'd just sinned, a _deadly_ sin. A sexual immoral sin, and he'd been taught those are the worst offenders.

His breath was panicky, he felt himself slowly losing sanity, and almost didn't catch Dean leaving the closet through blurred vision.

_No._

_No, no, no._

This had been against everything his father had been trying to prevent. This was ruining all of his progress. He was a disappointment, not only to his Heavenly Father but to his earthly father.

But _oh_ Dean Winchester had felt so comfortable.

Why had he been comfortable?

Why could he have been a girl? Then this all would've been okay.

Castiel shrunk to the floor, clawing at his head with his hands. He wanted to scream, to do something irrational. The secret was out, Dean Winchester knew, and that was all not acceptable. Zachariah would kill him. This would end him.

_Cas._

Dean Winchester had made him hell-bound.


	2. Chapter 2

Monday morning was like any other morning; cruel and almost painful to awaken and face the day - except this time, Castiel had Friday night's event sticking in his head, drowning him in guilt. When he walked into school, he was self-conscious that suddenly everyone in the school knew his embarrassing little secret. Of course, that was foolish thinking. Everyone ignored him like they usually do.

He'd confessed multiple times already, profusely asking for forgiveness from his Heavenly Father for his sinful act. But the feeling wouldn't go away, and it was pathetic, and it made him feel dirty. Mostly, because all he wanted was more. More Dean.

English in the morning was usually a pain. Mr. Henricksen taught English 12, and was a fairly new teacher. He often reminded Castiel of Miss Caroline from  _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , because he often talked about things he had no idea about. But besides his cluelessness, he was extremely strict. Some days, Castiel appreciated it, other days, he'd like to stand up and staple his mouth shut.

That was probably sinful. Castiel couldn't find himself to care.

Castiel had taken his seat by now, coming in unnaturally early like always. The bell was just about to ring, and everyone had made themselves comfortable in their seats. Nearly no one talked first block of the day; everyone was still dead from sleep. He took out his book of  _The Tempest_  and got his notebook out.

Soon enough, the bell rang overhead, causing a couple of groans, and Mr. Henricksen started off right away.

"Take out your  _Tempest_ books, page 40," he instructed, sounding almost bored, "I'll assign parts to read."

While Castiel flipped through his pages he heard the door open and peered up to check who'd just walked in. He didn't really study the glance enough to realize who it actually was until Mr. Henricksen asked, "Who'd you be?"

And that all too familiar voice responded, "Winchester. Dean, Winchester."

No.

_No._

"I think I'm in the right place," Dean looked down at his schedule and looked around the room, scanning the room and then settling his gaze on Castiel's, and grinned.

"Yeah, definitely the right place."

Mr. Henricksen gave him a hard glare, "You mean Winchester as in the Winchester who hasn't bothered to show up for the past two months? Yeah, you're in the right place," He gritted through his teeth and pointed to the windowsill, not letting his eyes leave Dean's, "Go grab a copy of  _The Tempest_ and take a sit next to Mr. Novak. Don't give me any reason for you to be out of this room quicker than you can say  _Shakespeare_."

It took everything in Castiel's willpower not to run out of the room right there. If he was panicking earlier, he was having an anxiety attack now. As Mr. Henricksen started to write more notes on the board, Castiel felt himself getting angrier, angry at  _God._ It didn't make any sense, if God wanted Castiel to stop his sinful sexuality, how come he was shoving this sin right underneath his nose every which way? It was enraging.

Dean took a seat on Castiel's left, and Castiel did his best to ignore his presence. Part of him believed that if he forgot that Dean was so close to him, he would eventually disappear. If there was one thing that didn't need to be thought of right now, it was how Dean's body felt against his as their lips met in that soft fashion in the closet...

 _Stop_.

This was like trigging. People who cut themselves, stop, see razors – that's a trigger. Castiel? Liked boys, stopped for his father, sees Dean Winchester…

Falls.

Maybe if he just risked a teeny  _glance_  it'd be...

There was a burst of emerald eyes, a quirky, cocky grin, along with a cleanly shaven face. All looking right at Castiel.

"Mr. Novak?" Castiel darted his head to the front of the room to where Mr. Henricksen was looking at him expectantly. There was silence, as Castiel refused to answer because there was nothing he could respond to. Then; there was giggling. The girls being the loudest, a couple of 'jocks' looking around at their buddies, chuckling to themselves because  _Castiel Novak doesn't know the answer to a question?_

He wanted to die. Embarrassment haunted him everywhere, and it was one of his worst fears. It flooded him like he was drowning, and he needed a way out quickly. And it was that  _idiot's_ fault next to him...

"Castiel, if you cannot focus due to lack of attention span we will need to talk after class-"

"Easy, chuckles. My fault, I've got a lot of interest when it comes to..." He flipped the book over and held it upside down, glancing at it not more than a second, "Da Vinci?"

The class erupted in more giggles, and Mr. Henricksen looked aghast at Dean's interruption.  _No_ one had ever said anything like that to the school's most harsh teacher - who could easily drop Dean's grade to a negative 1 percent if he so pleased.

"Excuse me? It's Shakespeare, and do not address me as 'chuckles'," He said the word with disgust, "I am your superior, and you will treat me with some-"

"All right there killer; just get on with it," Dean finished and turned some pages in his book and added underneath his breath, "Someone didn't drink their morning coffee this morning."

 _If_ anyone  _had_ ever spoken to Mr. Henricksen like that, they'd never lived to tell the tale, because the look the teacher was giving Dean right now could be described as  _murderous_.

Castiel tried to compose himself, and forget about that smile he just  _knew_ Dean was giving him. Although, there wasn't much Castiel could hate at the moment, because he'd just saved him from unbearable embarrassment - at least in Castiel's opinion. It was the kind of thing that made his stomach bubbly.

_No wonder your therapy isn't working when you're drooling over an abomination like Dean Winchester. Do you have no pride in your God or father?_

Dean was getting kicked out of class, which showed the poor temper on his part, as he yelled at Mr. Henricksen for having a 'stick up his ass' (which in all honesty, was poor choosing on his part). But soon the argument was ended as Dean shut the door, leaving the room before he could say 'Shakespeare'.

 

o0o

 

When the bell rang to signal the class was over, Castiel quickly gathered his belongings and speedily made his way out into the dangerous halls of Moore High. He had to make it through the rest of the day without thinking about Dean Winchester's face, or Friday night.

As far as the first hour of his day went; he wasn't doing so well.

Math was after English, then he had a Writing course (much to his father's dismay;  _Too much selfishness in writing, allowing you to free your mind for the sake of pleasure for Earthly beings_ ), afterward he had Physics (which, if he was remembering correctly, was another class he shared with Dean as well), lunch, then History, than French.

"Dude."

Castiel swung around swiftly, accidently elbowing whoever had spoken with his shoulder bag right in the gut. "Oh my gosh - I'm so sorry!" He tried quickly as he saw Jo's confused expression. Once she saw his puppy dog apologetic look though, it quickly turned into a crooked grin.

"Hey, don't be," She smiled fully this time, along with her enthusiastic eyes; as always, "Why y'all jittery anyway?"

Castiel just shook his head, "Nothing," he shut his locker, "Just - people, you know?" He tried his best to not say anything more, because talking about people was gossip, and of course, that was sinful.

Jo shook her head in annoyance, "Don't tell me those douchebag Campbells are giving you shit still, because I swear to  _God_ ," she drifted off, but Castiel remained silent as he trifled through things in his bag, so she continued, "Honestly, they're just a couple insecure assholes who don't have enough brains to know when to stop," she leaned against the lockers and tried to look nonchalant. Often, he admired her stature as well, and it actually reminded him a bit like Dean's.

"I'm not letting them get to me," Castiel shook his head again, "They're not even the problem this time, actually," he said, raising his eyebrows, trying to make it sounds like he didn't care that much.

"Then what is the problem?" Jo asked.

"I believe that would be me."

Castiel thought of multiple different ways to kill himself right then. Hearing his voice made him feel too many conflicted emotions at once, and it was too overwhelming. And there was no way to escape the conversation that was bound to happen.

"And..." Jo looked confusedly from Castiel to Dean, settling her stare on Dean, "... who are you?"

"Dean Winchester,  _sweetheart_ ," and no, Castiel didn't feel a small twinge of jealousy over him using that term with her, "And you are...?"

"Jo Harvelle," She had the usual venom in her voice when she got heated at something, and it was dangerous territory for  _anyone_ to enter. Luckily, Castiel never had gotten her that angry. "And don't call me  _sweetheart_  you ass, I have a little something called self respect."

Their personalities were  _too_ like each other, and Castiel could tell this conversation was going to go downhill real fast.

"Feisty one you got here, Cas," Dean smirked and gave the back of his head a sarcastic questioning look, "Your dad pick her out for you?"

That's what made him snap.

" _What the hell do you want_?" Castiel whipped around and faced Dean with a fiery expression, and everything about this was sinful but Castiel couldn't have given less of a care even if he tried. Dean's eyes widened, obviously not expecting such an outburst, and Castiel knew there was something he was supposed to feel guilty about here. But he didn't feel remotely guilty, all he felt was anger - mostly in himself.

"Shit, son," Jo stepped between the two, "You just caused  _Castiel Novak_ to swear, so you must be pretty damn awful," at this, she gave Dean the deadliest glare she could manage, "You," she pointed at his chest, "better not be giving him any shit or I swear to  _God_  I'll rip your testicles off. He might not have that many friends in this school, but I've got plenty of buddies who could beat your ass without a second thought," Jo directed her attention back to Castiel, "Gotta go, good luck kiddo," She gave him a quick peck on the cheek (Castiel always hated it, but didn't have any heart to tell her to stop), "See you at lunch."

Castiel was trying his hardest to calm down; this was the time he was supposed to ask God for forgiveness - but something was preventing him from thinking the thoughts. He couldn't believe he'd sworn; as if the sexual temptation wasn't enough. A part of him wanted to yell and scream at God, because if God had such a thing against this homosexuality, why was he shoving this tempting situation right underneath his nose?

"Listen," Dean started off surprisingly soft, he noted, and Castiel was becoming increasingly aware of time running out for him to make it to his next class on time, "I didn't know you were going to get all riled up. I mean - I - if you don't want me to talk to I guess that's... okay... but."

_That's exactly what I should be telling him to do._

_Now._

"... but I know you remember Friday night and don't try telling me different because I'm about 99.9% sure you've never kissed anyone in your life," Dean finished weakly.

Castiel shushed him. Dean just grinned back.

"We should... go out, sometime."

Castiel had the urge to wring his hands around Dean's neck until he turned purple and his expression blank. The thought itself surprised him, and he knew a correct response to that thought would be guilt. But he wasn't feeling very  _humane,_ and how dare Dean come up to Castiel acting like he was some  _fling_?

"No." Castiel started walking to his next class.

"No?" He heard Dean say unbelievably from behind him.

" _No_."

Dean heaved an aggravated sigh, "You're fucking ridiculous," and great - Castiel had found someone with an awful temper-, "If you're going to just stand back and do whatever your shit head of a father tells you to do-"

"He's not  _stupid_. My father does what he does to protect me from people like  _you_ ," Castiel hissed, and became increasingly more aware of the bell about to ring overhead and he wasn't anywhere near his class. "I do it because of the Lord's will." The bell rang.

Castiel walked faster.

Dean followed quicker.

He hated it.

"Shit - just - go to the Colt Diner at six o'clock," Dean blurted out, and Castiel scrunched his face up. Why was this Winchester being so persistent about getting Castiel to like him? He was so close to turning around and punching Dean in his perfectly Greek God jaw. Castiel would  _not_ be just 'another kid Dean Winchester's fooled around with'.

Then again, he actually didn't know anything about Dean.

But yet - he didn't actually care.

"Listen," Dean continued when he got no response, "If you don't show up I'll physically drive to your house and drag you out, and then you can have a nice conversation with your dad about that one," Castiel glared at him at that comment, but was met with a smug look from Dean again. How was it possible he was so comfortable with himself? Castiel didn't know whether to be impressed or worried.

Before he opened the door for his Calculus class, Dean grabbed his wrist harshly and Castiel thanked whatever God above that was watching that no one was there to witness this interaction. "Just go, okay?" Dean asked pleadingly, with a surprisingly sincere expression that almost shocked him. Castiel didn't say anything as he shook his arm out of Dean's hold and stared in a way he hoped was intimidating. He walked into his classroom, quickly thinking of an excuse as to why he was late, and didn't look back.

There was no way he was going to go.

 

o0o

 

Castiel arrived at 5:50.

It took some extreme convincing, but his father had eventually let him go. He told his father that he would be meeting Jo at the library to study, and he'd be home later. Pastor Zachariah wasn't pleased with him not eating dinner, and maybe that's what struck suspicion, but Castiel was hoping his father wouldn't dwell on the subject for too long.

So after they prayed together, Castiel went on his way, with the conscious of lying and betraying his father and God in the back of his mind.

As he opened the door to Colts Diner, the little bell overhead rang, reminding Castiel of books where the children were called home for dinner with a bell. He didn't know why he thought of that, but it brought a small spark of happiness in him.

Then reality hit and he started panicking. What if this was some set-up, and Dean wasn't actually going to meet him? What if this was just a joke to play on the stuck-up Pastor's son? Dean didn't seem like the person who'd be interested in relationships anyway; of  _course_ not. How could Castiel have been so stupid? He should just run out and actually go to the library - he could use some reading to ease his mind off-

"May I help you?" Castiel snapped out of his daze of looking at his shoelaces, and looked up at a pretty waiter. Her name tag said 'Ava', he noted, and tried to weakly smile. "I'm - um - supposed to... yes."

Ava was attractive, and was around the same age as Castiel, and it irritated him that he didn't find her...  _sexually_... attractive, as he found males. It didn't make any sense - if God, like his father had said, hated homosexuals so deeply, how come no matter how hard he tried he could never shake it off? It was unfair, and in many ways - caused him to be depressed.

Dean shouldn't have been admirable. His eyes were nothing special, and his body was fitly built like anyone else he knew, and his demeanor was nothing to praise over.

_Then why am I here?_

Ava giggled at his awkward posture, "Oh, is your name Castiel? Dean said he was expecting someone..." Ava pulled out a menu from under the hostess podium, and continued talking more to herself than Castiel, "... he showed up at 5:30, I thought he was about to be stood up..." She looked back at Castiel with a warm smile, "Alright, just come along and I'll show you too him."

Castiel nodded and followed obediently. Once he saw Dean sitting at a table set for two, his knees went a little weak and there was no way that was even  _fair_. How was it possible he had that effect on him? The room suddenly felt thirty degrees warmer as Castiel took his seat. He tried to nonchalantly look over Dean, who was wearing that same brown tethered leather jacket and ragged jeans. Castiel felt himself turning red and fidgety, and his palms were getting sweaty. Why was he so nervous? It was only Dean Winchester.

"Hi," Castiel said bashfully, and oh no, he was going to screw this up and regret everything-

"You seem nervous," Dean commented, sitting straighter in his seat, "Wouldn't be the first time, yeah?"

Castiel started to glare at him, but broke out of it - not exactly with a smile, but as close as one could get with him. Dean somehow looked so  _innocent_ , and he didn't understand it. It wasn't fair.

Then he felt a foot nudge him from underneath the table, and he looked back at Dean's smug look, and resisted the urge to give him another glare. How was it possible for him to be so  _cheeky?_

"Can I start you two off with a drink?" Ava snapped them out of their bubble, and Castiel politely asked for a water with lemon, and Dean asked for 'the usual' - whatever that was.

Ava just rolled her eyes and smiled, "I'll try," and left. Dean smirked and Castiel gave him a raised eyebrow.

"Beer," Dean answered before Castiel could ask, "Nothing too potent - obviously - just a light one."

"But you're not twenty-one," Castiel retorted.

"Eighteen. Close enough."

"Eighteen?" Castiel widened his eyes.

Dean gave him a curious look, "...You're not?"

"Seventeen."

Dean let out a little chuckle, "So, if we had sex, would that be illegal?"

Castiel made a strange choking sound in the back of his throat, and noticed that Dean was starting to laugh again. How was he older then him again?

"We are definitely never doing... that," Castiel stated, and immediately regretted doing so afterwards because what kind of  _idiot_ has to confirm that they're not having intercourse on the first...

Date?

No, this wasn't a date...

Wait, was it?

No...

"You're thinking too loud," Dean commented from across the table and nudged his foot again underneath the table. Castiel was about to respond, but right then Ava came back with their drinks.

Castiel ordered a fish sandwich with apple slices, while Dean ordered the biggest hamburger on the menu and a large order of steak fries.

They sat in silence for a bit, and then Dean started a conversation up again.

"Is this the point where I ask what your favorite color is? Or can we just skip to favorite movie?"

Castiel had to grin at that, "Red."

Dean raised an eyebrow with another quirky grin.

"... I don't watch many movies," Castiel continued, "Maybe...  _The Last Sin Eater_."

Dean's expression changed from amused to a look of annoyance, "Really?" He muttered, "Anything that  _doesn't_  involve Jesus?"

"Well..." Castiel looks around to make sure no one is paying attention, "I'm rather fond of the movie  _The Conspirator_ ," Castiel smiled excitingly, "It's all about the case of Mary Surratt with the assassination of Abraham Lincoln..."

Dean waited until Castiel was done, and smiled fondly from across the table at him. Being gushy was not part of his persona, but it's hard not to be fascinated by someone being passionate about something, no matter how geekish.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" Castiel asked, in a more worried tone than normal people would. Maybe he was right in his suspicions, that this was some prank. Dean probably had plenty of foolish friends who could be watching at this very moment, criticizing him over getting too excited about a date with Dean Winchester. He looked around quickly, searching every table for any unusual stares. It was obviously strange for him to frantically look around the small diner because he felt a tap on his shin and turned back to the table to see Dean looking at him worriedly.

"Jesus Christ Cas, I'm not planning to mug you. I maybe be bad but I'm not the  _Antichrist_ ," Castiel noted the small twinge of annoyance in Dean's voice, and tilted his head.

"Don't say the Lord's name in vain."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Don't start that bullshit with me."

Castiel tilted his head in a way that made Dean narrow his eyes. It was a weird action, but strangely adorable.

"Do you not believe in God?" Castiel asked, curious.

Dean glared and took a minute to respond. He took a deep breath, "Usually, I don't ask the person I'm on a date with about their religious preference, but since you're obviously different... There's that little saying I remember seeing sometime... went something like - 'I don't believe in God but I'm not against the idea of it' or... some shit like that."

Castiel has read about people like Dean. They keep their opinions within themselves to avoid criticism from others based on their personal preference. Dean seemed like the kind of boy who kept things bottled up, and when they ended up spilling out, he'd clean it up with a sarcastic or humor related response. Castiel saw right through his little façade, but decided against being blunt about his knowledge, which was a surprise to himself, because he'd always been about being straight forward.

Well, there's a first for everything.

As for Dean's unbelieving soul, for some reason, Castiel wasn't the least bothered. He'd expected that Dean wasn't a believer, and he would leave it at that.

There was a moment of awkward silence until Dean spoke up.

"Green."

"Huh?"

Dean cleared his throat and started fiddling his thumbs and said, "Green. My favorite color would have to be green."

Castiel smiled and Dean looked up from his fingers and saw Castiel smiling so he smiled and they both looked ridiculous and knew it.

When their food finally came, they had gone over a variety of different taboo topics. Most of it was Dean being shocked that Castiel hadn't heard of a certain movie, and vice versa with Castiel, except with books. It was an extreme contrast between them, but somehow it worked, because Castiel liked when Dean got animated about something, and Dean liked when Castiel changed his octave in his voice for a couple seconds. As much as Castiel would hate to admit, Dean was actually a very interesting person. His language could use some work, but Castiel wasn't foreign to blasphemy. Jo was the same way, so it was kind of like hanging out with Jo. But it had a different undercurrent to it, a certain comfortable level that Castiel had never felt before. He enjoyed it.

He probably shouldn't have mentioned family.

Dean didn't have much of a family, it seemed. So Castiel's suspicions were correct.

"Just me and Sam," Dean was saying. Mrs. Winchester had died when Dean was five in a hit and run. After that, Mr. Winchester went a bit insane. Dean kept trying to make light out of every situation that was blatantly awful, but Castiel let him convince himself that his father had done his best at trying to raise his children. In reality, it seemed like Dean had helped his brother grow up more than anyone. Sam was two when the accident with their mother happened, so he'd never really had his mother's influence in his life. It was unfair, to say the least.

"So what's your father doing now?" Castiel asked innocently.

"Killed himself last year while drinking and driving," Dean deadpanned.

Castiel widened his eyes and made a weird noise in the back of his throat. Last year? Dean was an orphan? Sam was an orphan? How was Dean  _possibly_  holding himself together?

"I'm so-"

"Don't you fucking dare," Dean suddenly looked up at Castiel with his long eyelashes and his breath caught because those  _eyes_  and that  _intenseness_ , "Don't say you're sorry."

Castiel was about to say something else, about how that wasn't something you could easily brush off, but decided against it. There was something hidden underneath Dean, and it was the first instance in his life where he was actually interested in finding out what that was.

"God puts struggles in our life for a reason. So He can help us through them. And we can grow through Him," is the next thing Castiel said, and right when it left his mouth he regretted it. His tone reminded him alarmingly of his own father's voice when he would be lecturing about something. Dean snorted and raised his 'root beer' bottle.

"Alcohol helps me through struggles," and he took a sip.

Castiel watched as Dean's Adam's apple started moving as he drank some of his beer and Castiel had to physically pinch himself to stop staring. Why he found that action so attractive and oddly arousing was...

Dean obviously had more problems than Castiel thought, and it was almost like he was broken beyond repair. But who could blame him? Dean had explained his family, and that was anything  _but_ pretty. Part of him wanted to reach across the table and grab his hand and tell him everything would be better, and everything would be okay... but would it be? Castiel had an uneasy feeling in his gut, and realized that not everyone had God in their lives to help them through things. He'd never even considered the possibility of God  _not_ existing, and thought of how sad of a life it must be to not have faith in something.

"Alcohol isn't good for you," was the only unnecessary comment Castiel could give. He'd said it so quietly, he hoped Dean hadn't heard. He plopped a french fry into his mouth, and made a contented noise. For a small diner, they had some excellent food.

"You aren't good for me either, but here we are," Dean said and Castiel almost coughed up the french fry he'd just chewed. He squirmed under Dean's cocky stare and could feel his cheeks going alarmingly red.

Of course they weren't good for each other. They were both males. Complete, polar opposites. God had never intended it this way.

But, if they weren't good for each other, how come they felt so right together?

 

o0o

The night ended earlier than Castiel would've liked. That in itself was just another surprising thing about the night. He'd expected to hate the date, but he'd come to feel more close to Dean that would've been uncomfortable with anyone else. And the thing was - he  _liked_ it.

It was eight o'clock, and he knew his father would have a right rant with him when he got home. Spending time at the library for two hours with a friend was pretty reasonable, right? Castiel hoped so.

They said meek goodbyes as they left the diner and went their own separate ways, Dean going rightward and Castiel going leftward. It was dark now, only the dim lights on the streets showing Castiel a way home. The air felt lighter somehow, and Castiel felt freer in a way. There was something else though, something that was begging for him to turn around and run to Dean and kiss him goodnight. It was an extremely sinful thought, but Castiel had to stop reminding himself that it was a sin if this was the only that was keeping him a little happy. Dean's lips had felt so  _good_ , and he'd gone too long without kissing anyone.

He stopped in the middle of his pace. Footsteps were pounding behind him on the sidewalk and Castiel turned around just in time.

Thank god for dark alcoves.

Dean grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into the shadow and kissed him hard on the mouth, leaving Cas thoughtless. Cas smiled into the kiss, and felt Dean smiling back, which made it very hard to continue. They stood like that, foreheads pressed together while smiling, until Dean broke apart and stared into his eyes. Castiel didn't have anything to say that wasn't already said with the kiss, and Dean took a deep breath and turned and was off.

And if Castiel had a little skip in his step after that, he didn't care.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel couldn't remember the last time he'd actually felt this happy. Even if his new found elation was because of Dean, was it really worth losing it all because it was a ' _sin_ '? Was it worth giving up just to go back to being miserable?

Yet, did God actually want people to be happy?

Castiel had asked himself this question numerous times, and never dared to speak it out loud. The thing was; Zachariah never cracked a smile if he wasn't at church. And even then, he wasn't smiling because he was happy, he was smiling because it was _necessary._ Castiel was the same way. Smiling was just a façade in the Novak family, because, well, there wasn't much to smile about. Dead mother, sinful children, and if you really thought about it, a dead father too.

So the question still stood; did God want people happy?

Castiel checked his watch.

8:34.

Well, he'd have to go inside the house sometime.

When he opened the door, the lights in the house were dimmed. That meant his father was home at least. Toeing off his shoes and hanging up his jacket, Castiel started into the home and walked into the kitchen.

Zachariah was sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle in his hand. Castiel's father only drank alcohol within reason, or at least that's what's Zachriah liked to tell him. It was a sin to get drunk of alcohol, but there was nothing against drinking in moderation.

"I called Ellen Harvelle to check in with you at the library today at eight o'clock," Zachariah started out. His speech wasn't slurred, and it comforted Castiel a little more to know he hadn't gotten drunk. He'd be serving the punishment all week if he did. His relief was a small feat compared to his heart thrumming underneath his chest.

"Mrs. Harvelle said you weren't there, so I asked if Joanne was there. She explained that neither of you were down at the library, and hadn't been there all evening," Mr. Novak looked up expectantly at his son, "Where were you tonight, Castiel?"

Castiel's palms were sweating and his heart was pounding. There were too many things racing through his mind. Should he tell his father the truth? That he was at a diner with a boy he'd known for barely a weekend, and that boy was making him start Castiel's own downfall? Or could he go a simpler route, and say Jo and him just went somewhere else besides the library to study? Or would that make it worse? How many lies could he tell before his father could tell they were lies?

Apparently, the silence was too long, because before Castiel knew it, his father was less than two feet away from him.

"You're not going to be attending school tomorrow," The pastor said with venom and hostility in his voice; a voice that was all too familiar with Castiel, "You will be having a therapy session with Ms. Barnes."

Castiel nodded, his eyes bugging out of his head in pure terror. He didn't know what his father did or didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He was bound to have a heart attack any moment.

Zachariah turned away and Castiel took this as his chance to escape to his bedroom. He ran in and locked the door and heaved a strong exhale.

Why was his father so intimidating? All his father had to do was look at him with that look of disappointment or disgust and Castiel regretted everything bad he'd ever done. It wasn't _fair_.

Weren't fathers supposed to love?

 

o0o

 

Sure, missing his job for school wasn't okay. And sure, that had some fucked up logic to it. But how could Dean _not_ want to see Castiel again? It was as if some magnet was drawing him to the hell hole the next day.

But when Castiel didn't show up for English, something struck Dean that could only be explained as uneasiness. And as Dean proceeded to get kicked out of English class the second time in a row, he kept wondering where the awkward child had gone.

Maybe he was just late for school, Dean hoped. They still had Physics together, second to last class of the day.

When 10th period rolled around, Castiel wasn't anywhere to be found.

Okay, so it was dumb to be this worried about the kid. How long had they'd been knowledgeable of each other's existence - four days? It was way too soon to be this clingy.

Something was wrong, though, and Dean sensed it. There wasn't anything to do but wait until the next day, where hopefully Castiel would make an appearance.

 

o0o

 

Castiel had made a vow. No more Dean Winchester. God had made it painfully clear that if he tried anything with him again he'd be punished.

Then again, that was easier said than done.

As of now, there was no Dean, and Castiel was making his way down to English class. Everything had gone fine so far, and he'd been repeated a verse Pamela had shown him yesterday.

**"Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." James 1:15**

When he'd finally made his way into English, and class started, he noticed Dean wasn't there. And he had to remind himself that that was a _good_ thing.

"Page sixty-two," Mr. Henricksen droned out, "Castiel, I'm need to see yesterday's assignment for credit," and picked up a notepad and a pen and made his way over to Castiel's desk.

And right on cue, Dean walked in.

If Castiel swore...

"Will you ever come _on time,_ Winchester?" Mr. Henricksen commented, not even looking up and sounding almost bored. Castiel could almost hear the smirk spread across Dean's face as he retorted with, "Mighty big school you've got here, easy to get lost."

All the girls in the class started giggling. Stupid. _Stupid_.

Mr. Henricksen ignored him, with a shock to everyone, and went up to the front of the room and started writing on the white board. Before anyone knew it, the teacher was going into an in depth lecture about the relationship of Prospero and Ariel.

Having read the Shakespeare play already twice now, Castiel already knew everything there was to know about this play. He still wasn't quite sure if Ariel was a pigment of Prospero's imagination, or if he was physically a real person. He'd heard people contemplate about it, but it confused Castiel to think Ariel was an imaginative figure. Ariel presented himself to the shipwrecked royals, but in a disguise, unbeknownst to any of them, so maybe he was just a spirit figure? Ariel was quite a fascinating character in Castiel's mind.

Of course, there was another conscious in the back of his mind that was reminding him of Dean's presence next to him.

_Don't look at him. Don't do it. You know if you do, it'll be the end of you. You'll be finished. You'll be done. You'll be a failure. You'll be a disgrace. You'll be punished._

Castiel refused to look.

...but he felt Dean's stare boring into the depths of his soul, and it took every ounce of self control _not_ to look over. There was nothing there he hadn't seen before. If he didn't look, he wouldn't sin, and then he wouldn't fall.

"This is symbolic of..."

At some point, Castiel gave up on trying to focus on whatever was coming out of the teacher's mouth. As much as he loved Shakespeare there was always that one thing he hated.

The _stupid_ 'love at first sight' deal.

Mr. Henricksen had explained it before, "These plays are too short for a fully developed love story to be explained. That's why Shakespeare chooses love at first sight dilemmas to get certain points across." That's when Ash had started groaning in the back of class, talking about how "Romeo & Juliet was some nostalgic bullshit that had no plot or interesting points whatsoever."

A part of Castiel agreed with Ash's viewpoint, though, a little more subtlety. Then again, as he thought about it, wasn't that basically what him and Dean had done? They'd fallen for each other's looks, not personality. Castiel thought back to Dean's stature, and couldn't stop himself for admiring it in his mind. God certainly knew what he was doing when he created the older Winchester.

 _Don't_.

His eyes were the first thing Castiel had fallen for - they were bright enough to make _anyone_ wobble at the knees. Along with that, there was his posture that just seemed so confident - _too_ confident - and that might've been a little, well... _hot_. It was an attitude Castiel almost admired, and attitude he _wanted_. Dean was determined to get what he wanted, because it was important too him. And that look in his eyes when he got determined...

Dean wasn't that bad of a guy.

But that was the problem.

He was a guy.

When class finally ended, Castiel made a beeline towards the exit. He figured, the further he was away from Dean, the better.

And of course, with his luck, he ran into someone.

Luckily, it wasn't anyone too bad. And thank God it wasn't Dean.

"Hey, Cassie!"

Meghan Azazel was a cheerleader and probably had slept with half the football team. Yeah, Castiel should find that disgusting, but Meg (nicknames!) was actually a really interesting person. She knew how to make Castiel crack a grin (which was like a laugh in her book) and made him feel important. How they had started talking was a mystery to Castiel, but he had a suspicion it had something to do with math homework last year.

Castiel murmured a small, "Hi," before reaching his locker and started wiggling around with the lock. Meg followed suit and leaned against the locker next to him. She seemed to be thinking about something, and looked like she gave in when she turned to Castiel with a face that could only be described as excitement. "My parents are out this weekend."

Castiel nodded. She spoke of her plans of parties at her house on a regular basis. Sometimes, he had even helped her plan what to do and what would be fun when they had spare time. Usually, Castiel either a) wasn't invited or b) didn't go. Parties were not his forte - a blind man could see that. But, planning things with Meg were fun, and she was animated and called him 'Clarence'.

"Well don't just _nod_ \- come! It'll be great for you to, you know... get out," She hinted with a voice of pity, and Castiel didn't need that.

"I don't-"

"Oh come _on_ , Cassie! _You're_ not even _that_ much of a loser. You just need to loosen up a bit, and a party would be just the trick!"

"Meghan. I-"

"I invited your girlfriend - Jody? Joey?"

"Joanne."

"Sure, whatever."

Castiel thought about it. Of course, there was no sense debating the issue in his head - his father would never allow him to attend such an event. A party that would no doubt have dancing, drinking, and maybe even drugs was _not_ an event the pastor would let his son be seen at. It was unspeakable, and did bad for their church's reputation.

On the other side of things, it could be considered good. Maybe he could talk to some girls and forget his homosexuality, or distract him from it. Maybe he could find a girl version of Dean. Maybe it would be fun.

"I'll think about it, Meghan."

Meg seemed to get the drift and left him alone at his locker, sashaying her hips as she walked away. Castiel shook his head as an afterthought. No way.

Closing his locker, he saw a face that was least appreciated. He immediately bolted in the opposite direction.

"Cas!"  
 _Keep walking, keep walking. He doesn't even have a right to call you by a nickname._

"Cas!"  
 _Just make it to math, you'll be fine._

"Castiel you fucking answer me right now."

_How lovely, a man with a mouth and poor temper. Just what you needed, Castiel. You really now how to pick winners, don't you?_

"Castie- _fucking_ -el."

Dean punctuated his name by grabbing Castiel's wrist. The hand stopped him from moving, and no, Castiel certainly did not register how his hands were perfectly calloused and felt, well, _strong_.

He quickly pried Dean off with a huff, "Stop!" He said in a rushed voice. Dean shot him a confused look and Castiel felt a pang of guilt hit him with that kicked puppy look. This was all his fault, in a way. He let Dean effect him in this way. But Castiel had to make this better, and the only way to do this was to get Dean out of his life as soon as possible.

"What the fuck happened?" Dean's voice is softer now, and right as he talked the bell overhead goes off. Castiel internally groaned and wanted to punch Dean in the eye because this would be another time he would be late to math this week. He also noticed Dean's eyes dart to the storage closet across the hall, and Castiel shook his head before Dean could even suggest it.

"No, no, no, no!" He wriggled out of Dean's iron grip and widened his eyes noticeably. Dean gave him a confused look and reached out to grab him again, but Castiel tripped backward to avoid being grabbed again.

"No," Castiel almost hissed, and was shocked by a speechless Dean. It filled him with a sense of pride, almost.

Almost.

"Just-"

"You listen to me, _Winchester_ ," Castiel made his voice sound as intimidating as possible, even though he felt extremely vulnerable, "I will _not_ sacrifice everything for you. I will not be stupid enough to..." His voice was cracking, but he couldn't break, "You-," Castiel pointed a finger harshly at Dean's chest, "need to stay away from me. I'll..." Castiel drifted off, and his eyes suddenly were far off in an unidentified place, mixed with an expression of sadness, "I'll end up going to hell because of you."

With that, he snapped out of his trance and walked away from Dean without looking back. He didn't want Dean's response, he couldn't hear it. He'd done what he needed to do.

His father would be proud.

o0o

"Sneak out."

"I am _not_ sneaking out. I'd have to be completely insane to do that."

"Oh come on, it's just one night. Live a little. What stories are you gonna tell your children when you're older?"

It's a Friday night, the night of Meghan's party, and Castiel is listening to Jo plead for him to come from over the phone. Castiel just shook his head, even though Jo couldn't see it. No way would he be able to pull it off. His father would kill him if he ever found out. Then he'd have more therapy, probably more punishments, maybe even _harsher_... - it wouldn't be good.

"Jo, you know what would happen."

"Yeah, your dad would get a little mad and that would be that. It's not like he'd rip your testicles off."

Castiel shuddered. That wouldn't be that far from a possibility.

"Look, I'm sorry-"

"I'll be at your house in half an hour. Get pretty, I'm sure there'll be plenty of girls there trying to get it in," Jo paused, "Rehearse some pick up lines in the mirror, too."

Then she hung up. Castiel rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. He was digging such a deep hole that he'd never get out of it. Then again, maybe this party would be good for him, or at least a good distraction. He could find a girl, maybe kiss her or... something.

He settled on a dark purple polo with two yellow stripes across the chest. He unbuttoned the first two buttons on top to reveal the expanse of a white shirt underneath that Castiel hoped looked okay, along with dark denim jeans. He ruffled his hair up in the only way he knew how, then brushed his teeth. He put a piece of gum in his mouth and splashed some water on his face. Something about this situation was exciting yet so bad at the same time.

Then again, he was probably being an idiot about the whole thing, like usual.

Castiel was lucky him and his father lived on a one story ranch, because it made it fairly simple to slip out of his bedroom window going unnoticed. He made sure to lock his door, then put some pillows underneath his bed just in case. Hopefully his father would stay in his own room that night.

The weather had gotten frostier. There's snow on the ground, and it's continuing to fall. He should've grabbed a jacket.

Once Jo picked him up and they were on their way to the party, Castiel's nerves started to act up. How was he expected to communicate with girls? He’d never found boobs inviting before, but would he tonight? But that was lusting, that wasn’t love, but which one was he looking for tonight? What meant what? Where was he?

“You alright?” Jo asked when they had gotten out of their car and started walking up to the front door. The thumping music could already be heard from the driveway and Castiel was already regretting every decision he’d ever made. He just nodded his head and continued into the house.

Bodies were everywhere when he first opened the door and it was loud and it was humid and _oh my word was that alcohol_.

One instinct told him to turn around and immediately leave, but there was another instinct that was pushing his feet forward into a massive open space, with bodies close to the walls and close to each other and music thumping in his eardrums so loudly he thought they would burst, and everyone was way too close-

“Cassie!"

Castiel snapped his head in the direction to the calling of his name to see Meg jumping up and down with her hand in the air. She was wearing a way too short of a skirt that was modestly acceptable and a shirt so tight and small he didn't even know if it could be considered an article of clothing.

"You made it!" She hugged him then laughed. Her scent was full of a stale smell of alcohol and maybe even a hint of some kind of smoke. She then motioned to the girl standing next to her.

"This is Ruby!" Meg yelled over the beating bass of the music, "Say hi!"

Then she left.

Where did Jo go?

"Um, hi!" Castiel tried over the music. Ruby had blonde hair and blue eyes that shinned brightly in the dim lighting and a smile that hid something that Castiel would probably find uncomfortable. She said 'hi!' back and next thing Castiel knew, he was being led into a sea of bodies that were weakly dancing with one another. Well, he doubted that was actually dancing, but everyone seemed to be doing it like it was.

He was not excited. If anything, his penis was probably shrinking into an impossibly small size and going inward.

That's not what he wanted.

Maybe if he just concentrated a little more...

Castiel didn’t even know how to dance, and was pretty sure he was going to make a fool of himself. Ruby started doing a little jumpy dance at first, nothing major, as the song overhead was loud and old, that repeated the phrase, 'rock that body’.

This was all complete blasphemy; too much skin from all the women as if modesty wasn’t even a thought. The whole concept and idea of dancing to turn each other on was so _wrong_ and _disturbing_ and Castiel needed to get out of here.

“Well come on!” Ruby laughed loudly and before he could even comprehend what she was doing, her hips were knocking into his in a very suggestive manner and Castiel was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Luckily – or not so luckily – Ruby did most of the work when they were ‘dancing’ (how was this called dancing again?). Castiel knew this should at least affect him somehow, maybe just a little erection – something at least. The female body is what he was supposed to be attracted to; how come he couldn't just simply be attracted to it? Why was it so difficult?

Why would God make it so difficult?

"Are you even okay?" Ruby ask with a tinge of curiosity in her voice. She sounded mostly bored as the song overhead changed to another upbeat, disgusting tune. Castiel looked down to where his loose arms were at his side and still body.

Ruby laughed, “Usually this is supposed to be a double effort, Cas.”

_Usually this is supposed to be a double effort Cas._

Castiel froze. Similar to when he-

_No._

No don’t think about that.

_Soft lips, dancing green eyes…_

Just shut up.

Hands on hips, hand on chest…

_You’re never being forgiven._

_Maybe you don’t want to be._

Cas felt anxiety build up. This couldn’t be happening. His mind was reeling and he couldn’t focus and _oh god_ Ruby was giving him a stare that searched his very soul and all he wanted to do was get away.

A slap across the face snapped him out of his freak attack pretty quick. Ruby looked up at him with a furious expression.

“What the fuck are you even doing here?" She yelled, and a group of people stopped to look at Ruby.

"Fucking freak!" She continued, "never should’ve agreed with Meg to even give you the thought of day!” She yelled loud enough to be heard over the music and to grab the attention of several other onlookers. Casitel wished she would stop, she was making everything worse, and if those were stupid tears in his eyes…

"I-" he tried.

He was greeted with another slap to the face, "Why don't you just leave?" Ruby went on with her cruel rant, "You're obviously not straight enough for this," and she sarcastically chuckled. The music started to fade out and Castiel wished it wouldn't. He wished everyone would go back to what they were doing and mind their own business. This was the opposite of what he wanted to happen.

When his eyes widened from her comment on his straightness, Ruby laughed again.

"I can't believe it," and from her tone, that was probably true, "Closet case opened! Great," She shook her head, "Enjoy sucking cock you faggot," Ruby sarcastically smiled and walked away, leaving Castiel dumbfounded and uncomfortable and completely not knowing what to do.

People were murmuring around him, some jocks were laughing, and Castiel was sure he wanted to die. Did this mean everyone knew now? Or would people just treat it as Ruby overreacting? She surely was, if Castiel had anything to say about it. He hadn't even done anything to get a rouse out of her like that.

"What's going on here?"

Castiel groaned out loud.

Jo walked in first, looking wildly angry. Followed by _that_ voice and _that_ face. She looked around at all the jocks and their smug smiles and skimpy girls with their slutty poses. She huffed and smiled, “Now, you all either shut up or I’ll fucking rip each and every one of your dicks off,” She said casually, “And girls!” Jo added, “Your cunts aren’t that hard to rip out either from how loose they probably all are,” She continued smiling and scanned the crowd again, “So back the fuck off Castiel, or this night could go downhill real fast.”

The crowd stood in shock and silence as Jo’s words sank in. A couple “sorrys” were murmured and the music was turned back up and the party was still on.

Castiel still couldn’t move. This was all way too overwhelming. Why did he ever leave the house?

An arm gripped him and dragged him out of the room. Castiel kept a blank expression, thinking of the ways he could end all the embarrassment and shame.

He thought of one way.

But that would be a sin.

"Dude," Jo snapped her fingers in front of Castiel's face, "Are you high?"

Castiel shook his head solemnly, too tired into trying to defend himself. He could see Dean’s face from the corner of his eye and something about that made him bury his face in his hands. There was no way he was crying; he wouldn’t embarrass himself more.

“Why are you with him?” Castiel murmured in his hands. He heard Jo chuckle. “Turns out he’s not that annoying… or that bad of a kisser to be honest with you,” and with that Castiel lost any sense of what was right, what was wrong, who he was supposed to be, or any correct response at all. He decided to put his hands down, stare at Dean for about five seconds, earning a confused look from Jo, and ran.

How long he ran for, Castiel didn’t know. It could’ve been five seconds, or five hours, but all he knew was that he was in the middle of an empty road, small snowflakes falling around him from the beginning December weather sinking in. It was then that he realized he was colder than Dante’s Inferno and that he should have  _really_  thought about this before he decided to go out.

Then again he hadn’t really planned on everything falling to complete…

 _Shit_.

"Cas!"

Castiel turned slowly to the familiar voice, not wasting any time in pretending he wasn’t real. Dean Winchester was real.

Dean Winchester was also his sin.

When Dean’s proximity came closer , he tried a warm greeting smile, “Hi,” he said simply and tried to look innocent. It didn’t really work well with him.

“Hi,” Castiel said in no more than a whisper, looking down the dark and black, endless road. What would happen if a car came right now? Would he bother getting out of the way?

“Hey,” Dean hit him lightly in the shoulder. Castiel ignored him, keeping his expression blank, his thoughts foggy.

Dean gave him a thoughtful expression then seemed to make up his mind, “Fine,” he finally said after a couple moments of silence, “You’re coming with me then.”

Castiel was led back to the house, unfortunately, but luckily Dean didn’t make him go back in the house. He immediately went to a sleek, black Impala that looked like it’d been through hell. Castiel didn’t have enough effort to comment on how the car looked like a piece of trash, but when he sat in the passenger seat and got comfortable in the old leather, all he wanted was to drift off into sleep.

Castiel figured Dean would be driving him home, but when he took an opposite turn from where he was supposed to go Castiel looked up at him from his seat. “Where are you taking me?” He asked.

Dean just grinned, “You’ll see.

They drove on for another good ten minutes. The developments started to drift off in the distance as an open field revealed itself on the side. The sky was clearer from what they looked like in the town. It was turning sheet white as the snow continued to fall down.

Next thing Castiel knew, Dean had pulled over and was opening Castiel's own door for him to get out of the car.

“Um,” Castiel looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, “What exactly are we doing here?”

He got up from the car anyways though, even though he had no clue what they were doing and whether or not this was even going to lead anywhere safe. When Dean started walking, Castiel followed him, mostly because the darkness was more dark when Dean wasn't there.

Dean grabbed his hand somewhere along the way and Castiel didn’t mention anything about it – although it may have made him feel a bit more comfortable.

But only a bit.

“Okay,” Dean said in finality as he stood a good fifty yards away from the Impala. Castiel raised both eyebrows and tilted his head.

“What?” He questioned.

Dean plopped down on the ground dragging Castiel down with him. Castiel hit the cold, snow-covered ground hard, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped from his throat. Dean smiled next to him in approval. That laugh hadn’t been much, but it’d been enough.

Castiel lay on his back now looking up at the sky. The stars were out in full brightness this night; something they rarely did in the winter. They were scattered around the sky carelessly, as if a toddler had spilt glitter across it. For some reason that thought made Cas smile.

Dean looked at him from the side, and noticed Castiel shivering. It was his own damn fault, what idiot leaves the house in this kind of weather without come type of coat? Without thinking, Dean took off his jacket and threw it at Castiel not-so-gently. Castiel looked taken aback by the gesture, whether for the fact that he threw it with force or that Dean was sacrificing it to him, and glanced between Dean and the jacket.

“Just put it on,” Dean said, exasperated, “You look like a dying bunny when you’re cold.”

Castiel couldn’t resist the smile that spread across his face as he slipped on the leather jacket. It smelt like that familiar cologne Dean always wore.

They lay there in the snow, complete silence, letting the snow falling around them and the stars that were spread up above fill it for them. Castiel's hand was in the middle of the two, and Dean wasted no time putting his hand over it.

Cas smiled and didn’t know if it was Dean, or the sky, or the weather. All he knew was…

He felt almost…

Happy.

Like he wasn’t falling. Or failing. Or sinking into a hole that would kill him eventually.

Just…

Happy.

Castiel looked over at Dean and saw his eyes closed, letting little freckles on his face being hit by small snowflakes and being melted right away. He wore a smug smile and his eyelashes looked more defined in this setting. Between the moonlight and the stars and the snow, Dean almost looked illuminated.

Suddenly Dean’s eyes flashed open and he tilted his head towards Castiel, and saw that he was already staring. He smiled drowsily, and tightened his hold on Castiel's hand.

"I like you," Dean stated softly, "And don't freak the fuck out about it. I'm not trying to trick you, or... _damn you for eternity_ ," he rolled his eyes, "I don't know why, but I do. I just... like you," Dean said and let his head fall back down and closed his eyes again, “And I want you to know that you deserve so much more than what you think you deserve. You deserve the fucking world on a golden platter for all I care,” Castiel could hear the laugh in his voice, and settled his head back in the pillowing snow himself.

It was funny how one person could change someone’s whole attitude with such few, simple words.

One kiss, one date, one awkward social gathering; and here they were – laying in the snow, stupid smiles across their faces.

And Cas had never felt more at peace in his life.


	4. Chapter 4

With the past experiences of euphoria after nights with Dean, Cas figured he shouldn’t get too excited once he got home. Luckily though, it seemed like his father hadn't left his room since Castiel had left the house, so the coast was clear. He was one _lucky_ kid, tonight.

Then in the morning, his father remained clueless, so Castiel was pretty satisfied in being sly. Then again, there was an edging guilt to it, even though he should be grateful.

There was always one person watching.

And maybe that's where the guilt was coming from.

There are always stories of people who begin this downward spiral into sin, and all of them completely disregard God. As if love or sexuality is of higher importance than eternal damnation. For Castiel, that was somewhat impossible to imagine.

Being a pastor’s kid often had it’s roots and they were very much in tact for him. Castiel cared because God was important.

But so was Dean.

But God was meant to be first.

So Castiel made him first.

Devotionals are quiet time alone with God. In the Novak family, it was traditional to do them each day. Castiel didn't only do it because of the obligation though, he did it because it mattered.

That morning, Castiel read in Luke. Devotionals allowed you to interpret the Bible in a way that only he could interpret, without having others tell him what it means. Which is why Castiel personally found devotionals his favorite kind of religious study.

After he came out of his room, he noticed the house was eerily silent. The kind of silent where you know you're the only one in the house. Castiel crept into the kitchen and saw a note on the counter.

 

**Convention in Kripke County. Gone over the weekend. Don't get in any trouble.**

The smile that spread across Castiel’s face surprised himself, and he wasn’t even sorry that he was happy that his father wouldn’t be around the next few days. Maybe he could finally go out and do something without having to worry about being killed when he got home.

At least for a day or two.

The first thing he did was call up Jo. He should probably give her an apology about last night.

“Hello?

“Hello, it’s Castiel.”

“Did your dad actually let you use the phone?”

“Um, he’s out for the weekend.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“… so about last night,” Castiel tried.

“It’s alright Castiel. Seriously. But I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Jo took a long pause and took a long breath, “What’s been up with you lately? I mean I know your dad isn’t the best, but what’s been up with yourself?”

Catiels took a breath and just sighed in the phone. How was he supposed to answer that question? _Oh, it’s nothing Jo, I just have really liked penis lately and been going to therapy sessions telling me I better start getting interested in vagina._ That would be perfect.

“…Schoolwork?”

“Cut the bullshit. Just tell me, I mean, I’m your friend dude, you know you can tell me whatever it is,” She took another pause, “Has it got to do something with Dean?”

Castiel felt his heart stop and widened his eyes. “What do you mean? I’m not gay.”

_Smooth Cas. Real smooth._

He could’ve sworn he heard a laugh from the other side of the phone. “I didn’t say anything about being gay, Cas,” Jo said carefully, and after an exaggerated pause she added, “I mean, if you _are_ gay, that's cool too.”

“Why is being a homosexual cool?”

“Oh my god,” Castiel could almost hear the roll of eyes as Jo continued, “You must be gay because you always sound like you have something stuck up your ass,” She took a breath, “Listen, I’m just saying, if you’re a queer I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“I’m not a homosexual.”

“Then what’s with it then with Dean?”

Castiel had a lot of things he could’ve made up, he’d been preparing them late at night in his spare time. It wasn’t a bad thing to keep precautions, was it? Yet somehow none of it was coming out when he needed it most _._

“It’s complicated.”

"I've got time."

"But... Jo-"

“Okay, that’s it,” Castiel heard some rustling over the line and finally, “I’m giving you Dean’s number and you're going to call the ass and talk it out with him because if you don’t cheer the fuck up soon I might combust.”

"How'd you get his number?"

"Sources."

Castiel had a right mind to think about asking her about that "good kisser" Dean, but decided it was a conversation for later.

After Jo gave Castiel Dean’s number, she said a goodbye and told him to ‘get a move on’ – whatever that meant. Once they’d hung up on each other Castiel just looked over the piece of paper he had written the number on. God should be on his mind but He wasn’t, and Castiel knew it should bother him but for some reason it just _didn’t_.

He had fallen hard.

Castiel plopped down on the couch and started dialing the number. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Castiel dialed the last number and waited for the ringing to start.

Ring.

_This is stupid why am I doing this he doesn’t actually want to talk to me._

Ring.

_Maybe if I hang up in time he won’t even notice I called._

Ring.

_Why isn’t he answering his phone oh god he hates me maybe he’s having intercourse with other men why didn’t I think of that of course he’s probably sticking his-_

“Hello?”

“-Penis!”

_Oh my god._

“Listen whoever the fuck-“

“Cas!”

Is it really that hard to make a functional sentence?

“…Is this Cas?”

Castiel just hummed in the phone because he didn’t trust his mouth. He could hear some movement and then there was silence.

The uncomfortable silence filled the space for about ten seconds before Dean said, “So, why’d you scream penis? because I’m hoping you weren’t fulfilling some dirty fantasy-“

“No! No,” Cas emphasized, “I would never… No.”

Dean chuckled from the other side of the phone, “You’re telling me you never jack off?”

Castiel made a spluttering noise and was not enjoying the fact his penis was actually getting a bit excited over this. He could still hear Dean’s ridiculous chuckles that shouldn’t  ben so attracting and blurted out in the phone, “What are you doing right now?”

There was a pause and a sigh, “Well, I was working, why?”

Castiel sighed in reply, “I was… well, I don’t really know what I was thinking.”

He heard a couple of sounds from over the receiver and it was about five minutes before Dean was back on the phone.

“Where do you wanna go?”

Castiel paused, “Um, I don’t think I said anything about hanging out.”

Dean sighed, “Shut the hell up and just tell me where you want to go.”

“How about the library?”

Dean murmured, “If that’s your kink…”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Dean sighed again, “Meet you at Trials Library in a little bit.” Dean hung up before Castiel could say okay.

Great. What was he supposed to wear? Did he have to do his hair?

He looked himself over in the mirror and shuffled with his hair a little. Should he put gel in it? Should he put cologne on? Well, he didn’t want to try too hard and mask Dean’s scent because _god_ that was heavenly and…

_Cas, just shut up._

o0o

 

Dean was in the farthest corner of the library waiting for him. No books or anything. At least Castiel had been smart enough to at least make it look like he was there for a purpose, bringing along a few binders from school. Dean looked up with a hidden expression that Castiel couldn’t read as he took a seat next to him and just sighed.

“Hi,” Castiel tried shyly. Dean just smirked and put both elbows on the table and turned his head to face him.

“Hey,” he replied.

Dean took his binders and flipped through them, “Math?” He pondered while grabbing the other one and saying, “English,” Castiel watched as he put his tongue behind his top teeth with his mouth open, tilting his head to look up at Castiel. Castiel just stared at him with wide eyes, unaware of what to say or do.

For starters, Dean was way too attractive to possibly be real. For goodness sake, Castiel was getting hot just looking at him smirk. It was like some enchantment, a very unfair enchantment, that made a sin so unfortunately mesmerizing.

“Why’d you bring me here if you’re going to be some awkward little…” Dean saw an expression flash over Castiel’s face and hesitated with his words, coming up with something at the last second, “…squirrel.”

“So first I’m a dying bunny,” Castiel raised an eyebrow, “And now I’m a squirrel?” Dean smirked, and Castiel tried a small smile and said, “I should call you Snow White.”

Dean barked out a laugh, “Snow White?” He said with an incredulous grin breaking out on his face, “Didn’t know you had a thing for Disney princesses.”

Castiel knew he was blushing furiously, but he continued trying for banter to keep conversation going. Serious conversation felt heavier, and this felt free. It almost made Castiel gasp from the mere thought of actually being free with someone. It was a very nice thought, and the sensation of it brought him to smile.

Dean noticed and crowded further into his space, and Castiel was suddenly grateful for the shelves of Science and Astronomy Encyclopedias that separated them from the rest of the eyes in the library. “What are you smiling at,?” Dean perked his head sarcastically and Castiel did not appreciate the fake innocence. His palms were sweaty already, and his face was definitely heating up, and this was supposed to be wrong, but if Dean kissed him right now it would feel like the most perfect thing in the world.

The proximity was so close and Castiel went for it and tried to press his lips to Dean’s, but Dean pulled back a little bit when he tried, only allowing their lips to touch for a moment – not enough to be called a kiss. Dean didn’t get very far, and his lips were millimeters away from his own. Castiel could almost feel the smile as Dean’s eyes shone brightly in the light.

“Angel got some balls?”

His breath ghosted over his lips before Dean pressed his lips on Castiel’s mouth and they were kissing. Castiel smiled against Dean’s lips in a shy fashion and kissed back with fervent enthusiasm. How come Castiel hadn’t kissed anyone in his life? This was too good to be missing out on for 17 years. Such a pity for all those who would never understand the feeling of Dean Winchester’s full, beautiful feeling lips on their own, or the way they moved on top of theirs. First he would capture the top lip, then the bottom, twisted and maneuvering his mouth in such a way that really did make the sin - _sinful_.

Dean’s hands flew up from his sides and started to move gently down Castiel’s front, and oh _God_ was that causing Castiel to get more hot than usual. The hand kept on moving down, and down, and-

Castiel pulled back in a panic as Dean put a palm over his dick. He started shaking his head saying, “Abstinence, no sex before marriage,” and looked to Dean with wide eyes. Dean gave him a hurt look, but brushed it off with a smile.

“I don’t think a handjob is sex.’

“Handjob?”

“Are you serious?” Dean asked unbelieving.

Silence.

“Do you even watch porn?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head, “No. Sinful.”

Dean huffed out a laugh, “So, never even touched yourself?”

Castiel stared nervously at his hands, “…No?”

Dean just gaped, but Castiel was grateful he wasn’t laughing, and suddenly it all got hot again.

He leaned into Castiel’s space again, face near his neck, and Castiel froze again. And God his voice shouldn’t have been so husky when he spoke, “Bet you had all these boners when you were a fifteen years old, and you just stared at it, not knowing what to do,” Dean pressed his lips softly at the base of his neck, near his collarbone and Castiel took a deep intake of breath, “Couldn’t ask your daddy, ‘cause he’d have your head,” Dean continued up the neck with small presses of lips to skin, “Probably wanted to touch yourself so bad, and see what would happen-“ Dean reached his jawline with his lips.

“-Well I know what happens I’ve taken Health class.”

Dean pulled away and raised an eyebrow at Castiel’s innocent face, and shook his head while rolling his eyes before pressing forward for a kiss. Castiel kissed hesitantly back, unaware of what this was going to amount to.

A hand pressed over his growing bulge again and Castiel took a deep intake of breath, breaking the kiss again to look sternly at Dean. Dean just smiled, “Not sex.”

The hand continued rubbing over that place through his jeans. Castiel’s cheeks were burning red, he could feel them, and he didn’t think his cock should’ve been growing that fast and _wow_.

Dean went back to kissing Castiel to cover up his heavy breathing. Castiel figured he was probably having some proper freak out inside his head because there was no way that this could be anything clean or pure or not sinful.

Everything Dean did was sinful.

And something about it made it exhilarating.

The room felt a hundred degrees hotter than usual as Dean kept palming him through his jeans, along with kissing his mouth. Castiel was having a tough time keeping up with him, mostly because this whole experience was foreign and new and somehow exciting.

_Maybe because it’s a sin._

No, not now.

_You’re going to hell, it’s obvious now, isn’t it?_

No, no, no.

**_Unforgiveable._ **

Castiel pulled away and stood up before Dean could continue unzipping his zipper. He glanced around worriedly and couldn’t miss the flare of anger in Dean’s eyes.

Dean popped up from his seat and cornered Castiel with the bookshelves behind him. Castiel didn’t miss the disappointed, almost angry look in Dean’s eyes, a look he wasn’t that unfamiliar with.

Then suddenly Dean’s eyes went soft, with a sort of curious, disappointment.

“When are you going to start thinking for yourself?” Dean asked quietly.

Castiel just stared at Dean with sad eyes and tried to break off and look at the floor, stealing glances every second along the way. Tears were going to start coming if Castiel didn’t distract himself, and the carpet design looked pretty nice at the moment.

"Why'd you kiss Jo?" Castiel murmured, ashamed of how pathetic he sounded.

Dean tilted his head and his eyes softened more, "That didn't mean anything," he said slowly.

"Everything means something," Castiel muttered.

"We kissed for a total of five seconds, then heard trouble," Dean rolled his eyes, "And, for what it's worth, I didn't feel anything close to what I feel with you."

"You mean that?"

“Don’t be such a pussy.”

Castiel couldn’t prevent a grin from breaking out and shaking his head. Dean grinned and shook his head a bit and gave Castiel an apologetic look.

“Listen,” he started out, “I’m not gonna push you, we’ve got all the time in the world,” Dean tried to laugh off the tension. Castiel just nodded and shook his head to get tears out of his eyes. He felt like a hormonal teenage girl.

The two sat back down in an awkward silence.

_You’ve ruined it now. Maybe you should back out._

_Like you should’ve done since the beginning._

Castiel smiled at Dean, and took out his English binder, and did his best impression of Mr. Henricksen:

"So, how many time are you going to be late to English this week, _Winchester_?"

And the laughter was beautiful.

 

o0o

 

Castiel loved watching Dean talk. He was so animated, and moved his hands in an over exaggerated manner, and his eyes would light up about something he really enjoyed, and his impressions of people could top anyone. Castiel didn't need nor want to say anything, so he watched and listened intently as he fell just a little bit harder.

Around six o’clock, the librarian finally turned the corner of the bookshelves and kicked them out. Castiel was completely unaware of how much time they had wasted just talking and staring, and occasionally kissing. Mrs. Harvelle, Jo’s mother, was owner of the library, and would’ve let them stay if she didn’t want to get home so quickly. Dean was a bit hesitant on moving but Castiel gave him a quick look and he gave in.  They left silently and walked out to the front of the library together.

They turned to face each other.

“Well…”

“… Well.”

“I should probably get home,” Castiel suggested.

“Or you can come over,” Dean tried.

Castiel stared at Dean with a sad look, “I already told you-“

“I know,” Dean quickly interrupted, “I know,” he repeated slower this time, “I don’t want any of that, just – I’ll have Sammy cook dinner. Or something.”

Castiel watched as Dean almost went shy and looked at the ground. And really, it was pretty impossible to resist that face.

“Fine. Consider it a… date?”

Dean nodded and smirked. Castiel walked next to him and stood awkwardly, and Dean just shook his head for the billionth time that day and grabbed his hand, and walked down the sidewalk with Castiel by his side.

 

o0o

 

It turns out, The Winchesters didn’t actually have a home.

They lived in a little motel place, blocks away, almost on the outskirts of town, called the Roadhouse. It took Castiel by surprise when Dean led him across a deserted road into a deserted looking motel.

“You’re not going to like… murder me, are you?” Castiel asked worriedly.

Dean just chuckled, “Of course not, idiot,” he led him through the parking lot and went up to a door numbered ‘1’.

“Old friend of my dad owns the joint,” Dean explained as he keyed the door, “And when my dad died, Bobby went easy on me and Sammy and gave us the place,” he opened the door and held it open for Castiel to go inside ahead of him, “Once I got over the death, he set the rent to about a hundred bucks a month. Not bad.”

“Castiel Novak?”

Castiel swung his head around to see Sam Winchester putting some DVD into a DVD slot on the small flat screen television. And it was really small, like maybe ten inches or something.

“Samuel,” Castiel croaked out meekly, nodding his head in Sam’s direction. Dean smiled from behind him while closing the door. Castiel stood and looked around.

The room was obviously reconstructed a bit from originally planned. The kitchen included a refrigerator, a stove, and a sink with some cabinets.  The ‘living room’ was just a couch with a little table next to it. And there was a room behind that – must’ve been a bedroom.

“Anything to eat, Sammy?” Dean called out and ventured into the kitchen, where Castiel followed.

“I’m not your slave!” Sam called back from where he was trying to do something in the DVD player.

Dean rolled his eyes and walked over to the refrigerator. Castiel followed.

“What do you want, then?” Dean hollered back.

“I don’t really care!”

Dean walked towards one of the other cabinets. Castiel followed.

“Mac and Cheese it is!”

Dean took out a pot and filled it with some water, and moved it towards the stove. Castiel followed.

Dean put his head down and started laughing, “You’re literally like a lost puppy,” he murmured, and when Castiel didn’t understand him, Dean just looked up with his crooked smile, “Tell you what, you go and help Sam with whatever the hell he’s doing while I make dinner.”

Castiel just nodded and left Dean to himself, listening to his soft chuckles all the way into the living room.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel said upon entering the living room. Sam just nodded his head up in acknowledgment.

Castiel bit his lip, “Um, what’re you up to?”

Sam looked up at him, “This DVD is all messed up,” He lifted it up into the very poor dim lighting. Castiel took it and looked at it carefully.

“It looks a little dusty, along with a few scratches…” Castiel peered at it, “Nothing Windex can’t fix.”

Castiel made his way into the kitchen and started opening some cabinets. Dean looked over from where he was staring at the boiling water and rose an eyebrow.

He found the Windex and used a paper towel to wipe off the DVD carefully. Satisfied, he handed it back to Sam.

“What are you watching?” Castiel asked.

Sam just smiled, “A performance of _Wicked_. Have you ever seen it?”

Castiel nodded and a smile broke out, “Of course I have, who hasn’t, honestly?” Castiel smiled excitedly, “Who’s your favorite character?”

“ _Ga_ -linda,” Sam emphasized and Castiel laughed a bit, “Or,” Sam added, “the good ol’ Wizard. Either one, really.”

“I have to agree Glinda is a great character, but I have to say my soft spot is for Elphaba-“

“Wow it’s a wonder you aren’t _both_ gay,” Dean commented on from the kitchen, loud enough to be heard. Sam laughed, and Castiel just chuckled nervously because _don’t mention the gay thing, Dean_.

“Shut up, housemaid,” Sam bantered back, mocking his cooking.

Castiel just giggled at the two of them and _oh god he was giggling_.

Dean noticed and just smiled over to him slyly.

Soon, the exquisite meal of Mac and Cheese was served and the three of them ate on small TV trays while watching _Wicked_.

Dean was sharing one with Castiel, which Castiel commented that was "completely unnecessary", but scooted over to make room for Dean anyway.

Dean kept commenting throughout the whole show, confused on primal things like, “Why is that chick so obnoxious?” and “You can’t just be a dick to a girl in a wheelchair, that’s like common sense 101.” Castiel finally moaned at him to shut up and try and enjoy musical theatre, and Dean just scoffed with a small, “It’s a wonder no one knows you’re gay yet.”

_God knows._

No.

Sam drifted off at about eight thirty, and Dean carried him off to bed without waking him up and came back in to finish the play with Castiel. Sure, musicals were definitely not Dean’s thing and he’d rather hang himself and video record it than watch one, but that blissful look and peaceful atmosphere around Castiel was worth it.

Dean doubted Castiel got much of that, and he’d be damned if he would do something to get in the way of it.

When the movie ended, Castiel took the DVD out and put it back in the case Sam had it in and placed it on the shelves with the rest of them. He stood between the couch and the television, and faced Dean.

“So…”

Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel’s torso and brought him on top of his lap and started kissing him. Castiel was completely caught off guard, but replied with equal amount of passion. Teeth clinked, some tongue was exchanged along the way, but soon they were lying side by side on the small, old couch, kissing and smiling away.

“You’re perfect,” Dean whispered out.

“Only God is perfect,” Castiel replied aimlessly.

Dean shook his head and rubbed his nose with Castiel’s. Castiel smiled and scrunched his face up. Dean then giggled, for God’s sake, _giggled_ , “You look like a kitten.”

Castiel almost barked out with laughter, “So what is that, the fourth animal reference you’ve made? Honestly, my man, you are a living Snow White.”

“ _Your_ man,” Dean repeated with a funny looking grin.

“Oh shut up,” Castiel said while rolling his eyes.

They did a bit more kissing and Dean rolled on top of Castiel, and started his hand down his chest again. Castiel was ready to say something, but soon the hand backed off, and just stayed where it was on the center of his chest.

Castiel smiled into the kissed and took his other hand and put it over Dean’s. He broke the kiss and just smiled at their hands, and Dean did the same.

“I’m happy,” Castiel whispered, and Dean smiled and pecked him on the cheek.

“Me too.”

And they fell asleep, just like that.


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up on a couch in the middle of a dusty motel room was not exactly a familiar sensation for Castiel. It took him a minute or so to realize where he was, and what had happened last night, and a simple remembrance brought a small smile to his face.

But something was wrong.

Where was Dean?

Castiel jumped up from the couch, which was a really poor decision seeing as he was already dazed and confused and making his legs stand up was a difficult task – so difficult in fact that he fell face first on the floor. He made a groaning noise and tried to get up, but gave up half way.

He tilted his head higher and looked at the time on the DVD player.

9:34.

Oh no.

He’d missed church.

Castiel bolted up and wobbled a bit before he could stand still.

Where was Dean?

He walked over in the kitchen and looked at the empty pot in the sink from last night. The thought of it made him smile again. It really was a wonderful night, even though it was just a simple macaroni dinner (which, for the record, lacked basic taste), a showing of the musical Wicked, and kissing – _a lot_ of kissing.

To stop himself from blushing from his own thoughts, he turned on the faucet in the sink and watched the water flow out, making a puddle around a pan.

Might as well wash it.

Castiel pulled out an old looking washcloth and looked around some floor cupboards to locate some dishwashing detergent. He was genuinely surprised when he found a dusty bottle of _Dawn_.

He may have taken more time than usual to wash it, but he was drowsy and a little on edge from missing church. He just hoped no one from church would say anything to his father. Also, this pan was way too overused. Maybe he'd buy Dean-

“Are you the new housemaid?”

Castiel spazzed and ended up twisting too rapidly and spraying a bunch of water in Dean’s face. Castiel made a large ‘o’ with his mouth, ready to splutter up an apology but was interrupted by droplets of water hitting him in the face. Castiel widened his mouth in surprise, and dipped his hand underneath the water and hit Dean in the face with it.

Dean started laughing, and that made Castiel laugh, and soon they were damp. Castiel flicked him once more while chuckling and Dean reached for him and kissed him – hard.

Their other kisses had been tender, with a side of passion to them, but this, _this_ ; this was something Castiel had never even imagined before. It wasn't hesitant at all, and Castiel found himself wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders. Dean’s hands snaked around his neck and gripped Cas' hair and pushed him closer. Dean slide his tongue in through Castiel's mouth and he moaned _and holy lord oh my goodness what is this how come we haven’t done it before._

Dean trapped Castiel against the countertop, and Castiel wouldn’t say it was exactly _comfortable_ being roughhoused but _sweet god the kissing and heat was beautiful._

Dean growled like a predator into Castiel’s mouth again and he squeaked, and thought he should probably stop squeaking. He was almost a grown adult. His head was yanked back and it seemed that Dean was trying to inhale him through heavy kissing and slipping his tongue in every corner of Castiel’s mouth. Then it happened.

 _Cas_ moaned.

Well, he moaned, and once he came to the realization he moaned, he gasped and moved his head away and widened his eyes at Dean. He watched Dean’s eyes slowly open and his eyelashes made his eyes pop out more than normal. His cheeks were blushed red and he was panting as if he’d just lifted weights. Cas noticed he was breathing heavily himself, and everything was so _shocking_.

How had Cas come from the pastor’s slave to having hot kissing sessions with Dean Winchester?

_A sin._

A good sin.

Dean’s low laughing made Cas smile in relief of not ruining the moment. _Thank God._

“I missed church.”

Okay – that might’ve ruined the moment.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Really, Cas?”

Castiel bit his lip and looked down, “It’s important to me.”

Dean quirked his head, “Important to you, or your dad?”

“Me. 100 percent me.”

Dean stared at him with an unreadable expression. “Why?”

Castiel knotted his eyebrows together and looked up at Dean in confusion. Why was God important? That was a silly question. God was important because… because…

God just was.

Dean nodded like he knew something, “Like I thought.”

“Thought what?”

Dean just shook his head and walked over to the door and slipped on some boots. Castiel looked at him in interest and noticed his lips looking redder than before. Was that from kissing? Had – had kissing actually made them look that delectable? Castiel swallowed and watched Dean grab a blue cooler.

“What’s that?”

“You know how I wasn’t there when you woke up?”

Castiel nodded.

“I was fishing,” Dean waved in the direction of the fishing rod propped up against the wall, “That’s some of my income. Half of it from fishing, half working in a car shop – that’s why I never came to school.”

“But you do now.”

“Yeah, thanks to you,” Dean mumbled, “I usually go after school.”

Castiel just nodded and Dean beckoned for him to follow him out the door. Castiel followed (of course) and soon he was in the passenger seat of the Impala.

“Time for breakfast.”

They drove through town and found a _Denny's_. Dean seemed to favor small diners. Probably since they were cheaper.

They were seated at a table and Dean ordered a Grand Slam – which Castiel knew he was going to regret getting later, and when he told Dean what he thought, he’d gotten _‘I’m a man’_ in response.

Castiel ordered some pancakes.

They ate in a talkative state, talking mindlessly about school and English, and how Dean needed a bigger television, and how Castiel needed to move out, and that the _Denny's_ was really empty for a Sunday morning, and a bunch of other irrelevant topics. Feet sometimes wrestled underneath the table, and shy fingertips touched each other from across the small table, and it was all good.

 

o0o

 

After, Dean took Cas to the familiar field they had been at after Meg’s party. They stared up at the sky, now that it was daytime, and exchanged a close laying down in the snow (Dean would _not_ be heard calling it a cuddle). They were in the middle of a weird conversation.

What did Castiel want to be when he grew up?

"Um, I've never really... thought about it."

Dean looked up from where he was laying down at and raised an eyebrow. Castiel just grinned and shook his head.

"What!" He exclaimed incredulously, "It's not a bad thing not to think about it."

Dean never responded, but Cas felt like he had more to say.They stayed awhile more before heading home.

 

Castiel walked into his familiar house and instantly felt cold. Not temperature wise, but in a mood wise. Although the Winchester’s didn’t have and actually home, it was much more of a home for them than this house would ever be for Cas.

A noise was heard in the kitchen.

Oh no.

Oh please God no.

Zachariah Novak turned the corner with a stony expression and stared right at Cas. Cas felt his own heart leaving his body and being taken by his father, being crushed and shredded until there was nothing left to use.

Words were being shouted, but Castiel didn’t care. A cruel beating would come after and his father would act like he’d fixed him.

But he couldn’t fix Cas.

Because Cas wasn’t broken.

 

 *      *     *

 

Later that night, when Castiel was alone in his bedroom with new bruises to hide, he thought back to a conversation him and Dean had.

_“Do you even watch porn?”_

Now he was interested.

Castiel didn’t have a computer, it was too much secular influence for his father, but he did have an iPod touch weirdly enough, and he could go a long way with that. There wasn’t any possibility his father would find out about any _porn_ because Cas knew it wouldn’t be possible if he deleted all his history and cookies and cache afterwards.

He’d have to be cautious.

Cas thought about it a bit. Did he really want to watch porn? Was it really going to be worth it? What would come out of it? Wasn't it considered a sin? He guessed he was supposed to put his pants down or something but…

He stalked quietly over to the door and locked it. The clock read 1:30 a.m. but who knows; maybe his father would want to serve a beating in the middle of the night while Cas was masturbating for the first time.

_Safari_

_google.com_

‘Porn.’

Cas tapped the first link.

_Oh my gracious what is that. Is that actually what a vagina looks like? No wonder I’m totally not attracted to it. It basically looks like an undercooked hamburger. And… HOLY. Boobs? Boobs aren’t that bad. They’re like heaps of milk. Did you really just compare a boob to a bag of milk? This is scarring, how can that part of her get stretched so widely? Oh goodness, may God forgive him for this..._

He clicked on the first video he saw.

_Why does that girl have such small clothing on? Who actually sells clothes that small? Wait… oh. She’s going to answer the door looking like a whore… Oh.. OH…_

Cas was terrified.

A man came in and automatically started stripping the clothes off her body. That was not erotic. Not even close. No thank you.

_“Oh yeah, oh yeah!”_

Cas’ hands frantically went to turn down the volume and searched his bed for his headphones. He waited to continue in case his father had heard, and when the coast was clear he plugged them in and went back to his iPod.

Straight porn definitely wasn’t working out.

Was there… gay porn?

Who would ever…

_google.com_

‘Gay porn.’

He clicked on the first link.

The page was spread with anal holes opened wide for viewing pleasure and Cas did not find that attractive at all either. It frightened him more to know that that was actually something he had.

The penises spread all over the page were not half as bad, although they still made Castiel want to look away. It felt to intimate.

But for some reason he was begging to see more.

Cas clicked on a video.

_Kissing is nice... a very – oh my – If that’s what Dean and I look like while kissing we need to video tape it. I would watch it over and- oh. He’s kissing down his chest and…_

The man on the video started playing with the other man’s nipples, and Cas widened and looked down at his cock enlarging beneath his pajama pants. There was no explanation of why the act of having someone’s mouth on another's nipple looked absolutely amazing.

Cas slowly untied his own pajamas and slid them down past his knees.

That was his penis.

Of course, he'd seen it before, just never like this.

_The nipple thing is amazing, yeah, keep going… Unbuckling his jeans, wow, that takes a lot of thought. I couldn’t do it that quickly and whoa – why is his underwear that pattern. That is completely unattractive and OH MY- his penis. His penis. Look at his penis._

_He’s shoving it in his-_

_Mouth?!_

The pornstars on the screen were moaning obscenely and Cas looked down at his own cock.

Here it goes.

Cas pressed a palm to his own cock and reveled in the relief of it. The muscle of it must be straining by now, and his hand wrapped around the base of it.

Why didn't he ever do this earlier in his life.

He set his iPod down on his stomach, and went from the top of his dick to the bottom. There was some friction, and Cas’ mind went automatically to what he’d seen the boy on the porn do and licked his hand.

His hand didn’t taste good.

The moans in the porn video were still in his ears as he started rubbing his hand faster on his own dick. He had to bite on his own lip to stop from a moan or a squeak coming out.

It felt _so_ good. Cas never knew there was something that could _make_ him feel this good. The tiny sparks of pleasures that he got when he pressed _just right_ on his own cock felt amazing, and he didn’t want it to stop. He looked down at his iPod for a moment and saw one of the men twist his wrist while going up and down on his partner’s cock.

Cas tried it out and almost squawked from the sensation. Cas didn’t know if this was a sin but he’d be damned if he stopped for that reason.

Then something was happening.

And his hand was going faster than the speed of light, and images of  the porn and the moans and Dean and everything was coming to some point that Cas didn’t know what was about to happen and-

This is heaven.

White stuff was coming out and Cas was sure that was his semen, and he looked around for a towel or something to clean it off with before it got everywhere. The moans of the porn video were still going on and he made a mortified movement to turn it off. He cleaned up and lay back down, facing the ceiling.

 _That was amazing_.


End file.
